


The Softest Thrill

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Conversations, Emotional Intimacy, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Ignores Season/Series 8, Love, M/M, Physical Intimacy, Post-Canon, Scars, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: If you could look directly at the sun with your naked eye, stare right into the heart of a burning, shining star, it couldn't be more luminous than gazing into Keith's eyes now.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	The Softest Thrill

Shiro doesn't open his eyes right away, even though the dip of the mattress—quiet, purposeful—tells him Keith is there. As he surfaces from sleep he floats up consciously, up and up; and then, with a deeper breath, he allows his lashes to flutter him open.

One foot propped up on the bed, the other draped over the side, Keith meets his eyes. Shiro smiles. Not just because Keith is here, though of course that's no small part of it. Space is the first love for both of them; neither would want the other to give up the stars any more than they could do so themselves. Love can be hard, though: their ongoing missions—Shiro's with the Atlas, which developed post-war into an exploration and research vessel, and Keith's with the aid & relief oriented Blade of Marmora—often pull them separately to far parts of the universe. 

Sometimes, though, the Blade is working in the same sector as the Atlas. At times, like the past two weeks, they're even on neighboring planets in the same solar system, a blink of a Lion's eye away. 

That's enough cause to smile, but the one that graces Shiro's face now is for more than Keith's presence: he smiles for the way Keith looks at him. It's not a singular look; Keith has countless looks for Shiro in different circumstances. At the core of each one is a purity that isn't innocent, but is _honest_. It always has been—right from the moment they met, when Keith didn't even want to turn Shiro's way, let alone meet his eyes. 

There had been honesty and something more the first time Keith had looked at him for real, after they'd known each other for a short but already meaningful time. When Shiro told Keith he would never give up on him, Keith had kept his face turned to Shiro—but it was when Shiro encouraged him to believe in himself that Keith's gaze had opened up. 

It was like the words sank into Keith through that opening, and Keith had followed them inside even as he'd returned Shiro's gaze. In that moment he'd looked at Shiro like he felt seen, and saw himself.

It was as if the first time Keith really looked at Shiro was the first time he really looked at himself. 

So Shiro has always loved the way Keith looks at him, long before he loved Keith. He looks at Keith looking at him now and he loves the way Keith doesn't try to hide his gaze. "Watching me sleep again?" 

Keith says something but the words are obscured by the cup of the hand he's resting his chin on. Shiro quirks an eyebrow. The curve of Keith's back straightens as his hand drops to his bent knee. "I was molesting you with my gaze."

"You can do that." Shiro smiles and Keith does too.

But as the gaze goes on, sinking into Shiro even as he sinks into it, it's not a joke. 

"You can molest me with more than your eyes." Shiro smiles again as he sits up. 

"Okay." 

Anticipation swells in Shiro as Keith unfolds himself and tips forward, swinging his other leg up onto the bed, then comes to Shiro and straddles his lap. 

They're so close together, Shiro can feel Keith's breath. He thinks he's about to feel Keith's lips on the deep scar across his face, just like the first time Keith claimed it for himself and every time he's reclaimed it since. The rising anticipation starts to twirl—

Keith touches his forehead to Shiro's. He stays there for a breath, another; then, his arms going around Shiro as he shifts, he rests his head on Shiro's shoulder. He used to be tucked into himself whenever they embraced but he's open now. And just like the first time Keith opened in a hug, Shiro experiences the softest, warmest thrill. 

He wouldn't mind staying like this for long and longer, but Keith sits back in his lap. His fingers hover and Shiro is sure he's going to start touching the scars now, but then instead of fluttering onto Shiro's face, Keith's hand drifts to touch down on Shiro's shoulder. 

Even though Shiro left his arm disengaged in the corner of his modest quarters on the Atlas when he changed out of his uniform earlier, he put the attachment anchor back on over his black tank top. Keith lingers at the edges of the biofeedback attachment before sliding along a curve in the air, one that would be there even if Shiro's arm were engaged.

"Was it a bad day today?" Keith finds Shiro's eyes as he lets his hand drop to his own lap.

"Not too bad."

Even as Keith nods, his mouth scrunches at the corner. "I can smell lavender and mint." 

The gaze between them holds. The body Shiro has now doesn't carry the genetic illness that held him hostage in his original body for as long as he could remember, but it's still susceptible to chronic muscle aches and spasms. Shiro doesn't know whether it's a flaw in the clone technology or if the Druids incorporated it to mimic the symptoms he was familiar with so that no one would catch on to the change. He'll never know now, and at this point it's moot. 

Anyhow, myofascial pain syndrome isn't Becker muscular dystrophy, but it's still rough on the body. Lavender and mint, as Keith well knows, are the dominant scents in the CBD topical Shiro favors to ease his symptoms. 

Shiro's mouth slants up on one side, conceding Keith's observation, before he says honestly, "It wasn't too bad." 

Keith nods in acceptance this time. "Want me to do another application for you in a few hours?" It's that Keith wants to and it's Shiro's turn to nod, both corners of his mouth lifting evenly in his new smile.

The grin Keith offers back fades as he looks at Shiro's shoulder again, at his own hand reaching out but not quite resting on it. Not hesitating, exactly—contemplating, maybe.

Contemplation stirs inside Shiro too. He watches Keith's focus for another moment before he says, "You did this."

Keith's lashes flicker then steady as he sits back, switching his gaze to meet Shiro's, a protective veil in place that Shiro recognizes from their early days of knowing one another. "Yeah. I guess I did."

Shiro shakes his head. Even though they've talked about what happened at the clone base more than one time, in more than one way, he has a guess that there are still misconceptions between them. Nothing to break them or keep them apart—after all they've been through together and with each other, Shiro can't imagine there's anything that could keep them apart in a serious way—but enough for there to be gaps. For there to be looks between them that are steady but not always connected, for smiles that don't reach below the surface, for something closed.

"No." He holds Keith in the gaze. "You gave me back to myself."

"Oh." Keith's expression clears as the veil lifts. He crooks a corner of his mouth into a grin. "Allura is the one who—"

"You." Shiro doesn't want any more misunderstandings or unconnected gazes. He would never downplay everything Allura has done for him; he knows he wouldn't be here without her. But: "You made me whole again, Keith." He searches Keith's face. "You make me whole."

Keith's expression alters again: softens as it brightens, opens more. 

If you could look directly at the sun with your naked eye, stare right into the heart of a burning, shining star, it couldn't be more luminous than gazing into Keith's eyes now.

Keith's mouth doesn't know what to do, what words to shape in response to Shiro's, even what shape to take itself. Shiro offers his own mouth to Keith's, and Keith fits them together in a shared breath.

When they're breathing on their own again, Keith shifts out of Shiro's lap and, limber as ever, folds himself to the side in a smooth motion. 

Shiro angles towards him. "How was your day?" It's a heavier question than the simple words might imply, and not just for how rarely Shiro gets to ask it in person. 

Peacetime, as much as it was endgame for Voltron and the only possible goal for the universe, hasn't always been easy on a personal level. Keith came into his own during the war, not only growing up but growing into himself. The post-war transition has been challenging for him, even more than it has for the other Paladins. It's not that he misses the fighting, but Shiro knows something feels missing sometimes... 

He wants to makes Keith feel whole too. 

"We were doing demos for new recruits." Keith's fingers spread beside him, smoothing over a rumple that appears in the comforter as he shifts. "I was in Black for most of it."

"Yeah?" Nostalgia inflects the curve of Shiro's mouth. 

When Keith looks up, though, he isn't smiling, and Shiro feels his own mouth straighten even before Keith says, "You know, I can still feel you in her sometimes. In Black." 

Shiro's brows arch; he didn't see this coming. He can feel that Keith is watching him—not just looking at him but _watching_ him. He rides the curve of this turn in the conversation and lets it lead him to his own curiosity. "Can you talk to me in there? Do I talk to you?"

Keith shakes his head. "It's not your actual consciousness. It's like, it's more like a lingering essence?"

Shiro nods—and then the lack of Keith's smile _whumps_ into him. _Lingering essence_. "Oh. So then..." 

He doesn't finish but Keith reads the understanding in Shiro's tone and puts words to it: "Sometimes I can feel Zarkon too." 

The room around them is quiet.

Keith exhales; the quiet absorbs his sigh. He turns his head to the side and brings his hand to his face. Shiro can't tell if he's biting the tip of his thumb or only touching his mouth. 

His hand stays by his mouth a moment longer, curling into a loose fist as it drops away. "I could feel you when you were trapped in there, when I first started piloting Black."

As much as they've talked about things that happened during the Voltron days, this one is new to Shiro. He focuses on Keith, on the next breath he takes, on the words that follow, "Only I didn't know... I thought it was because I was missing you so much." Keith looks at Shiro now, eyes wide open and full. "I didn't know it was really you."

"Keith." _You found me. You saved me. You never gave up on me._ "There was no way for you to know. It was a miracle you could see me, that you could hear me when you did. No one else could."

As Keith remains quiet, Shiro watches him thinking, not searching for words but considering whether to say the ones he seems to have. 

Drawing himself up, Keith makes eye contact again. "It wasn't a miracle. It was." He pauses and Shiro thinks he won't go on. He knows what Keith means and also that there aren't really words for it. "It was the connection between us."

_Oh._ So maybe there are words, after all. The thrill, dormant as they've been talking, stirs and hums. 

"I just want to feel that now." Keith moves closer. "I just want to feel _you_." He fidgets with the hem of Shiro's shirt as he tugs it untucked. "I want to feel only you." 

Shiro lifts his arm overhead as Keith kneels up to pull the tank top off, discarding it over the side of the bed. He slides into Shiro's lap once more, his gaze and fingers lingering over Shiro's torso, and Shiro shivers inside as the thrill curls and uncurls, sputters towards ignition—and then Keith hugs him again and nuzzles once more into the crook of Shiro's neck. 

Instead of coiling tighter, the thrill unfurls as it slips into Shiro's bloodstream, spreading late spring sunshine through him.

He starts to pull Keith closer, then thinks better of it and nudges him back to tug at his Snow Patrol t-shirt, the one Keith got the last time they went to an Earth memorabilia shop at a space mall. He thought it was for an alpine rescue unit and was so into the idea, Shiro didn't have the heart to tell him it was a classic alt rock band from the early 21st century. "Can you take this off?" 

"Yeah." Keith gets up and starts to undress. After his t-shirt has joined Shiro's on the floor, Keith reaches for his fly. Sometimes they just go shirtless when they cuddle, but it seems Keith needs more tonight; fluttering wings unfurl from the thrill in Shiro. 

Though Keith's movements are unhurried it's not studied, not a striptease or a performance. Keith knows that Shiro likes watching him undress, just as he likes watching Shiro sleep. Maybe someday Shiro will delve into the psychology of it, but in this moment he simply lets himself enjoy it. 

Then Keith reaches for his hand and gets Shiro up, fingertips caressing Shiro casually, making him shiver warm as Keith divests him of the rest of his clothing.

When they're both bare to the skin, Keith coaxes Shiro to sit back down and settles in his lap once more. Sitting back, he tilts his head as he looks at Shiro, not quite meeting his eyes—looking at his hair. "Old-timer white," Shiro had joked once, to which Keith had replied, "Rebirth white," the fondness in his smile washing out the self-deprecation in Shiro's. 

Still: "Think I should dye this?" Shiro says now, reaching up to toy with his forelock.

"If you want," Keith says. "But it suits you." 

Shiro touches his smile to Keith's, and keeps smiling even when Keith's mouth slips from his as Keith leans back to watch his own fingers moving over Shiro's skin. A sigh so thick it's almost a purr floats out of Keith as Shiro strokes his palm along Keith's spine.

When Keith tries to shift even closer, Shiro wraps his arm around Keith and lies back, bringing Keith with him and leaving it to Keith to slow their fall. 

As Keith rests on top of Shiro, his fingers find Shiro's shoulder again, then slip away as he moves down to rest his head on Shiro's chest, listening to the lullaby of his heartbeat. In the quiet Shiro can hear him breathing, and lets the rhythm lap over him.

He strokes Keith's hair, slides off the sleek strands onto Keith's skin, runs a thumb up his nape, burrows into Keith's hair as he cradles him, as Keith brushes his cheek against Shiro's chest. It's not the same, what they did to each other at that base. Shiro had been released by Keith's hand. By Shiro's hand—or by the hand of the body that's his now...

For a while, even as their connection deepened, even after the ever-shifting love they have for one another took a turn into romance, Shiro was unsure about Keith's scar. About his right to it. Keith claimed all of Shiro's scars with his fingers, with his tongue, with his come—but their scars were different, and Shiro didn't know... Was he, the actual him, responsible for that scar on Keith's face? And was it better or was it worse if he'd had a literal hand in making it? He got tangled up in questions that only led to more questions, to doubt. 

But Keith didn't have those doubts. When Shiro finally shared his aloud, Keith had settled everything by touching the scar to Shiro, cheeking him, like he's doing now.

Keith is touching him everywhere, with his face, with his hands, with his body. Tendrils of warmth wend into Shiro in the wake of each touch, fan out through him. Keith's cock is soft against Shiro's thigh and Shiro stays soft himself. He loves this softness with Keith. Keith loves it too; Shiro doesn't have to ask to know. Not like he'd had to the first time they did this. 

They'd been together for over a year and they'd done so much with each other by then—but always with Shiro initiating and requesting. Keith never said no to anything, but he never asked for anything himself and Shiro thought maybe he was shy about his fantasies, maybe he wanted things he didn't think Shiro could handle. Shiro couldn't imagine anything he couldn't handle or wouldn't want with Keith. So one time he'd finally gotten down on his knees and begged Keith to tell him what he wanted.

Keith hadn't said anything, looking away, up and off—but he hadn't left, hadn't even made a move to. "Please," Shiro said once more, and promised that nothing was too much or too far for him. Keith started to say something but cut himself off and instead came to Shiro and took his hand, took him to the bed. Shiro had been shaking; Keith had to have felt it but he didn't say anything. Once they were settled, Shiro understood that Keith hadn't said anything because he was shaking too. 

Shiro only realized he'd been feeling alone in his desires when the shared shaking connected them. They were together in this. He embraced the shaking; embraced Keith. He was able to read Keith's anxious fingers then, knew what Keith needed in that moment and gave it to him, taking over for Keith's hands to get them both undressed.

When they were lying together naked, he reassured Keith with words and touches that it was okay; he was okay; this was. "Whenever you are, I'm ready for what you want." 

"This." Keith blinked but his eyes didn't shy away, even when he visibly swallowed. "I just want this. So. It's not that I was afraid of going too far, but not going far enough."

It was enough. It was more than enough, touching Keith and being touched by him, being stripped to his skin, beyond naked in Keith's gaze. "This is everything," Shiro had said then.

It was; it still is.

He wants everything and more than everything with Keith. So when Keith sits up now, Shiro is all in on whatever will come. 

Keith reaches wordlessly for Shiro's face. He brushes his finger across Shiro's cheekbone; shows Shiro the stray eyelash. "Make a wish."

Shiro lingers on Keith's face a moment longer. He feels Keith still looking at him as he lets his gaze fall to the eyelash balanced on Keith's fingertip. 

He closes his eyes as he sinks into the moment, smiles, and blows.

**Author's Note:**

> You can read this as nothing more and nothing less than a moment between them—or if you want, you can read it as a timeloop, in which the wish Shiro makes at the end is to live in this moment with Keith... (the end is the beginning...).


End file.
